


Don't Come Back

by Writing_Goat



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Matt before Memories Erased, Slight bit of Tatt, memory erasing, suicide mentioned, violence mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6768238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_Goat/pseuds/Writing_Goat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt is tired, and wants something to change. What can he possibly change this far into his life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> I had the head canon for awhile now that Matt's memory erasing wasn't entirely an accident. I was going to fit it into the larger fic I wrote, but decided it needed it's own story. Even if it's a bit short.

It's been a long month. Everyone was tense, quiet. A lot has happened since they came home from the army. Ever since they had all got back and found actual jobs to sustain themselves and in a way, each other, it felt as if something was broken.

So broken, Tord had taken it upon himself to move out, and planned to make it big in the city rather than staying in the small suburbs in the next month. Matt understood this was Tord's choice, but he didn't like it. He was sure to let Tord know straight to his face that he didn't like it with some choice words.

They got in a bad fight that night, bad enough where Tom and Edd had to pull them apart. Matt refused to leave things like that. After all, he still needed Tord for something.

So, the next day when Tord was trying to ignore him, Matt made himself present in a way Tord couldn't. Asking Tord if he'd like to talk things out later that night behind the house in the back yard. He was almost surprised when the Norwegian agreed so easily.

Perfect.

Now, Matt knew Tord was more than a hentai loving trash monster. Tord was also far more than the gun slinging maniac he tried to come across. Tord was a genius, as well as Tom in his own right, but Tom lacked ambition where Tord, did not.

No. Instead Tord was a closet inventor. He would create structures and machines Matt never imagined seeing in his lifetime. Tord wasn't going to the big city to become some artist holed up in his room. No. Tord was going to create most of the technology they would be using in wars and in every day life. Matt was also aware of a particular gun he wanted from Tord, and would hope the man wouldn't mind sharing.

 

That night would be phase one of Matt's plan.

 

Matt was laying on the grass thinking to himself, looking up at the night sky when his line of sight was interrupted by a certain Norwegian. Tord didn't feel the need to announce himself further, and sat next to Matt on the grass, looking up at the sky.

“You're thinking. Should I fear for my life?” Tord teased lightly, pulling out a bottle of cheap whiskey, “You almost looked like Tom with that expression. What's going on in that ginger head of yours?”

Matt snorted, sitting up a little to look at Tord better, and spotted the whiskey as well. “Shut up.” Matt flipped the other off, ignoring Tord when rolled his eyes at him. “I have a couple of questions for you.”

“Alright.” Tord shrugged his shoulders, popping the glass container open and taking an open mouth full of whiskey into his mouth before handing it to Matt, who happily knocked the bottle back as well. “What are they?”

“First, I wanted to know, Are you taking the memory eraser gun with you?” Matt swallowed the burning liquid heavily, passing Tord the bottle. “I need it.”

Tord took the bottle, raising his eyebrow questioningly. “I have no use for it. What are you going to use it on?” He took this moment to take a drink.

“Perfect.” Matt hummed in thought. “I'm going to use it on myself, actually.”

Tord ended up ripping the bottle from his lips, spitting up what whiskey was left in his mouth before coughing heavily at what was stuck in his throat, “Y-yourself?” It was an answer Tord had not been expecting at all, what so ever. “Why would you go and use it on yourself? That's dangerous!”

Matt shrugged, shifting his gaze back to the sky. “There's a few things I'd like to forget after these next few days. Just minor events, nothing that's going to completely ruin me.” Matt grinned at Tord, who was glaring down at the smug ginger.

“Do you not know how dangerous that is, Matt?” Tord's accent was heavier than normal, still stunned at what Matt proposed, “You could accidentally wipe your entire mind! Forgetting your name, your entire life up until that point!”

“I won't.” Matt said, a little too confidently for Tord's tastes, but he knew better than to argue. “I know it has dials, and I'll set them accordingly.”

“... It's risky, still.” Tord grunted, his hand rubbing his face, frustrated. “Matt. What are you trying to forget?”

Matt didn't say anything, instead he went back to staring at the sky, returning to deep thought. This frustrated Tord further, but he didn't act on his frustration, and instead took another heavy swig of whiskey.

“You're worried.” Matt stated, without feelings in what he stated, “Don't. What happens will be my fault, and mine alone. We all have things we want to forget, I'm just acting on it.”

Tord groaned, regretting every second he had ever created that gun. Why did he create it? … Right. He tested it on himself. He forgot why he made it. “Matt, I know I'll regret this, but I'll give it to you the day I leave on the off chance it fails. Fair?”

“Fair.” Matt hummed, turning his gaze back to Tord lazily, grinning up at the man. “Glad we could come to that decision.”

“What else did you want to ask me?” Tord wanted to get this over with as he started to feel sick, watching as the ginger sat up, moving closer to him.

“I wanted to ask...” Now Matt looked uncomfortable, Tord knew he wouldn't like this. “... Don't come back. When you leave. Stay far away from here.”

What. Tord's eyes widened a little, before reasonably, he was offended. “What do you mean, 'Don't come back'?!” Tord nearly threw the glass bottle, instead roughly shoving it at Matt. “You ask for my gun, and then immediately insult me by telling me you'd never want to see me-” Tord was cut off by a pair of lips pressing aggressively against his.

Tord was angry, and could feel Matt was too. Roughly for a good total of five minutes they stayed like that. Kissing out of anger, passion, words that would never be spoken through the air. Towards the end, there was nothing but sorrow and empty words before they parted.

“Never come back.” Matt repeated, as if the kiss never happened. His eyes was devoid of anything short of demand.

“I won't.”

Things didn't get better after that, but the fights between Tord and Matt were nearly non-existent aside from verbal spats. As for Tom and Tord? They've gotten to the point that blood would be spilled, and have holed themselves up in different ends of the house. Honestly, Matt couldn't find it in himself to care, and Edd didn't care as long as they didn't actually kill each other.

In the mean time, Matt had been arranging his journals and albums. He neatly stuffed his largest one in between his mattress and bed frame, while the others were scattered across his neat and tidied room. It was frustrating to know they were out of place, but Matt resisted the urge to put them back in their rightful place, as they'd be easier to find.

One journal, he left out, and began to write on one of the pages. Perhaps it was useless, as no one was likely to find it once he hid it, but Matt began to write regardless.

“Date xx/x/xxxx,”  
“If you are reading this, I would have already gone forward and succeeded in my plan.”  
“Do not fret, do not look for a way to undo it, for by the time I would erase my mind, and soul, the gun would likely have over loaded. Erasing any evidence of the event.”  
“I refuse to carry on any longer like this. I am unhappy, and see no other way out other than death itself.”  
“To my future self, I hope you're happier than I am.”

He tossed the pen without care behind him, as the writing utensil was no longer necessary.

Matt knew he was committing suicide in it's own way. He was erasing himself from this world and leaving nothing but his body as memory of who he was. Was his soul to leave his body and be replaced with a new? Was his memories going to recede into the deep depths of his mind? Matt didn't care which happened, honestly.

He was tired of not being able to sleep at night from the thoughts that clustered his mind and fogged his vision. Tord leaving was the perfect chance to take step towards this, as the determined genius wouldn't be around to pull those thoughts back from being lost, and Matt wouldn't have to deal with the pain of his departure.

Matt would accept things as they were, and take his life, but leave his body.

 

It was time.

 

The date came to be when Tord was finally leaving. The air of the household was cold, slow. The energy had all been sapped from them as Tord handed Matt the gun without so much of making eye contact. Tom actually helped Tord with packing some of his things into his car, and stood behind it.

Matt's grip on the gun tightened, watching as Tord got into his car.  
They all said their goodbyes, and Tord began to drive down the road.  
The gun fired, and memories of his life flashed before him as voices faded.  
Names withered away and laughter turned to dust.  
Edd, Tom, and Tord's face all but melted into color.  
Everything else became a vortex of white.  
Nothing but a red car driving down the road would be the last thing to slip, and crumble away.  
It was white, silent. Feelings began to flood in.

“Fine by me!” Tom ran past, taking the now burnt out gun. Unaware of his friend's state.

“Who...” The ginger gasped for air, hands raising to his throbbing head. It was empty, silent. The man beside him turned to look at him. He couldn't hear a single thought of his other than wanting to panic at the words leaving his mouth. “Who am I?”

“... Matt?”


End file.
